Magpies chatter, railroads meet
I wander early in warm sun
A flash of bikies do the ton.
Proud Scots pine and eucalypt
Form a curtain neatly clipped
Hiding low-rise, brick-built homes
From casual passers-by, unknowns.
The traffic – not a steady stream
Erupts upon this peaceful scene
But everyone seems quite laid back
Windows down, loud CD track.
Suburbia: glades and yellowed grass
Fire warnings, road sign: “Possums pass”
The level crossing flashes red
The cars start to line up ahead.
The local train soon passes through
Two coaches - passengers are few
As most prefer to take their car
On empty roads you can go far!
The barriers stay down - for freight
An endless line goes Inter-State
Cyclists dismount, more cars queue
And still the wagons hurtle through.
December and the sun’s intense
A hat with wide brim my defence
Against its burning lethal rays
As I stand, bewildered, in its haze.
(c) Poet in the woods 2013
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